Six Months with Gus (Experience #6)
04-04-2020
Yesterday marked the six month anniversary of the day I adopted Gus. I can't believe it's been half a year since he came into my life. It's amazing to me how quickly time flies when you're living with someone you love, even if that someone is a dog. As I think back to where I was when I got him compared to where I am now, I realize how much I've learned and grown since he came into my life.
When I went to the shelter looking to adopt a dog, I was not in a good place. In fact, I was experiencing the darkest period of my life up to that point. To make matters worse, I lived by myself, and I felt completely alone. I decided that a dog would help with at least that little bit. I'd always loved dogs. I'd grown up with dogs my whole life. And after all, I'd been talking about how I wanted a dog of my own for years at that point. So I went to the Humane Society at the same time that Gus' foster mom was dropping him off. He'd been on crate rest for about six weeks recovering from a broken pelvis that was likely the result of being hit by a car, and he had just been cleared to be put up for adoption. I loved him immediately, and I took him home.
Since adopting Gus, my life has been much happier overall, and I've had to grow a lot as a person. After all, Gus depends on me for everything, so I have to be there for him.
I've had to become much more structured in my life. Living in an apartment meant that I had to take Gus on regular walks to let him use the bathroom and get exercise. I had to feed him regularly. I had to make sure to take out the trash and put food away, otherwise he'd tear into it and make a mess. I had to vacuum a lot because of all the shedding. And I had to help him adjust and feel at ease.
Though he was hit by a car on the street, it was obvious he'd had a home before that. He knew basic commands and was relatively healthy--too healthy for a dog who'd spent his whole life on the streets. But he was also very skittish. When I first got him, he was terrified to eat in front of me, only going to his bowl and cleaning it out once I left for class or crawled in bed. He flinched if I moved toward him too fast, or raised my hand suddenly. He was absolutely terrified of men and weary of other dogs. It was pretty clear that his life before being hit by a car wasn't exactly pleasant. I worked with him on getting adjusted to his new life where he didn't have to be afraid. I had to be patient and calm--something I rarely am--for his sake. By the end of the month, he was already doing better, and by November, he seemed to trust me completely.
December is what put my skills as a dog owner to the test. The night before the tree-lighting, I heard Gus' collar jingling in his crate which was very unusual--he usually went into his crate and was immediately still and calm. I turned on the light to find him convulsing in his cage, rigid with a blank expression. I didn't know what was happening or what to do. Panic set in, but I tried to push it down so I could take care of Gus--it was my job to take care of him. The seizing passed, and I called my mom and then an emergency vet for advice on what to do. The vet receptionist told me I should probably bring him in, so after I made sure he could walk okay, I got him to my car and took him to the vet. He seemed exhausted and confused, but otherwise himself. Nevertheless, I spent my time focusing on Gus and keeping him calm. I sat with him on the floor of the waiting room with his head on my lap, petting him and telling him how good he was. Once I spoke to the vet, we determined he'd had some sort of seizure for some unexplained reason. I left him overnight for observation, and when I went to pick him up the next day, I was determined to watch over him even more. I compiled all of his medical records from the Humane Society, his regular vet, and the emergency vet. I made a journal to record any future seizures, if there were any. For a few weeks, I watched him as closely as possible to make sure he was truly okay.
The whole seizure ordeal tested my ability to keep calm and do what needed to be done to take care of Gus. Even though we'd only been together for about three months at that point, I think showed me how much I'd grown just by having Gus with me. Before, I was sure I would have panicked and not known what to do in a situation like that, but after only three months, I handled the whole thing relatively calmly, and I had him at a vet within an hour of the incident. I was honestly a bit surprised at myself.
The three months following that went without incident, thank God, though I continued to work on his socialization skills, particularly with men. We've grown even closer since then, and now Gus spends every night asleep at my feet.
Looking back on the past six months I've spent with Gus, I see how much I've grown and changed. I've become a much happier, healthier person. I smile more. I go out more. I've become more responsible, patient, and organized. I've changed the way I respond to stressful situations. I feel good about myself--I've been able to help someone else, even if that someone is just my sweet boy, Gus.
Here is a picture of the first night I brought Gus home, and here he is now!
Yesterday marked the six month anniversary of the day I adopted Gus. I can't believe it's been half a year since he came into my life. It's amazing to me how quickly time flies when you're living with someone you love, even if that someone is a dog. As I think back to where I was when I got him compared to where I am now, I realize how much I've learned and grown since he came into my life.
When I went to the shelter looking to adopt a dog, I was not in a good place. In fact, I was experiencing the darkest period of my life up to that point. To make matters worse, I lived by myself, and I felt completely alone. I decided that a dog would help with at least that little bit. I'd always loved dogs. I'd grown up with dogs my whole life. And after all, I'd been talking about how I wanted a dog of my own for years at that point. So I went to the Humane Society at the same time that Gus' foster mom was dropping him off. He'd been on crate rest for about six weeks recovering from a broken pelvis that was likely the result of being hit by a car, and he had just been cleared to be put up for adoption. I loved him immediately, and I took him home.
Since adopting Gus, my life has been much happier overall, and I've had to grow a lot as a person. After all, Gus depends on me for everything, so I have to be there for him.
I've had to become much more structured in my life. Living in an apartment meant that I had to take Gus on regular walks to let him use the bathroom and get exercise. I had to feed him regularly. I had to make sure to take out the trash and put food away, otherwise he'd tear into it and make a mess. I had to vacuum a lot because of all the shedding. And I had to help him adjust and feel at ease.
Though he was hit by a car on the street, it was obvious he'd had a home before that. He knew basic commands and was relatively healthy--too healthy for a dog who'd spent his whole life on the streets. But he was also very skittish. When I first got him, he was terrified to eat in front of me, only going to his bowl and cleaning it out once I left for class or crawled in bed. He flinched if I moved toward him too fast, or raised my hand suddenly. He was absolutely terrified of men and weary of other dogs. It was pretty clear that his life before being hit by a car wasn't exactly pleasant. I worked with him on getting adjusted to his new life where he didn't have to be afraid. I had to be patient and calm--something I rarely am--for his sake. By the end of the month, he was already doing better, and by November, he seemed to trust me completely.
December is what put my skills as a dog owner to the test. The night before the tree-lighting, I heard Gus' collar jingling in his crate which was very unusual--he usually went into his crate and was immediately still and calm. I turned on the light to find him convulsing in his cage, rigid with a blank expression. I didn't know what was happening or what to do. Panic set in, but I tried to push it down so I could take care of Gus--it was my job to take care of him. The seizing passed, and I called my mom and then an emergency vet for advice on what to do. The vet receptionist told me I should probably bring him in, so after I made sure he could walk okay, I got him to my car and took him to the vet. He seemed exhausted and confused, but otherwise himself. Nevertheless, I spent my time focusing on Gus and keeping him calm. I sat with him on the floor of the waiting room with his head on my lap, petting him and telling him how good he was. Once I spoke to the vet, we determined he'd had some sort of seizure for some unexplained reason. I left him overnight for observation, and when I went to pick him up the next day, I was determined to watch over him even more. I compiled all of his medical records from the Humane Society, his regular vet, and the emergency vet. I made a journal to record any future seizures, if there were any. For a few weeks, I watched him as closely as possible to make sure he was truly okay.
The whole seizure ordeal tested my ability to keep calm and do what needed to be done to take care of Gus. Even though we'd only been together for about three months at that point, I think showed me how much I'd grown just by having Gus with me. Before, I was sure I would have panicked and not known what to do in a situation like that, but after only three months, I handled the whole thing relatively calmly, and I had him at a vet within an hour of the incident. I was honestly a bit surprised at myself.
The three months following that went without incident, thank God, though I continued to work on his socialization skills, particularly with men. We've grown even closer since then, and now Gus spends every night asleep at my feet.
Looking back on the past six months I've spent with Gus, I see how much I've grown and changed. I've become a much happier, healthier person. I smile more. I go out more. I've become more responsible, patient, and organized. I've changed the way I respond to stressful situations. I feel good about myself--I've been able to help someone else, even if that someone is just my sweet boy, Gus.
Here is a picture of the first night I brought Gus home, and here he is now!
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